A Convenient Wife (7 page)

“No.” His head shook slowly. “No, I wouldn't do that, Ellie. You know me better than that, I'd think.

“I thought we'd go and see the preacher,” he told her, mindful of her stillness. She'd eaten a bit of the chicken, but not enough to please him. “If you eat everything on your plate, we can go after supper,” he said, his voice carrying a teasing lilt.

She looked down with a frown. “I don't think I have any appetite,” she said. “My mind's just spinning around in a circle, and I feel dizzy.”

“You're not going to faint on me, are you?”

Her color was good. In fact, he'd say she looked downright
healthy. Except for the dazed look in her eyes, and that was to be expected, he supposed.

“No.” She shook her head. “I never faint. I come from sturdy stock. But I surely do feel like I've been dreaming and somebody's gonna come by and pinch me awake any minute now.”

“It's no dream,” Win said. “And nobody's going to pinch you awake. I'm going to make a bride out of you, honey.” And if he knew what was good for himself, and for Ellie, too, he'd save the
wife
part for later.

A
fist pounding on the door caught Ellie unawares as she cleared the table, and within minutes, Win had spoken to the visitor and was on his way, black leather bag in hand.

“I don't know how long I'll be,” he called back over his shoulder. “Depends on how much stitching up I need to do.” His response had been immediate, his mind set on the man who waited on a ranch outside of town, broken bone exposed, and in too much pain to be moved.

Ellie nodded in agreement, closing the door behind him, then set about cleaning up the kitchen. The visit to the parsonage would wait. Win's patient would not. A glimmer of what life would be like as the wife of a doctor made her pause in her work, the dish towel caressing the plate she held.

Win's face had been set in lines she was becoming familiar with, lines that bespoke his concentration on the task at hand. Nothing was as important to Winston Gray as the people who depended on him for the skills he possessed. A wife would come in second to that multitude, Ellie thought. And yet, even that fact could not dissuade her from the notion of marriage.

She'd protested mildly, yet her heart had raced with joy as
he declared his intentions.
Mrs. Winston Gray.
The sound of those words vibrated in her mind as she rubbed the surface of the plate she held, and she spoke them aloud.

“Mrs. Winston Gray.” Her mouth curved in a smile as she repeated the title, drawing out each syllable with anticipation. She would walk by his side every Sunday morning from now on, march down the aisle of that small church and sit with him, her skirt touching his trousers, her hand occasionally brushing his as they shared a hymnal.

That a man like Win should consider marriage to Ellie Mitchum was not to be believed. And yet, he'd said it was so, that they would talk to the minister and then speak their vows. She would hold her head up, no longer the cast-off daughter, but the chosen wife.

He was handsome. There was no doubt of that, yet it wasn't only his good looks that made her heart beat faster. Large, but well-formed, his hands were gentle. His body was tall and rangy, well put together, with not a trace of fat apparent. She knew the breadth of his shoulders, wide beneath the suit coat he wore, for only yesterday she'd ironed three of his shirts. They were tapered, by the looks of them tailored especially for him. Not for Win the merchandise from Tess's store. Rather, the fine broadcloth of clothing that spoke of city stores and handmade garments.

Yet, there was more to Win than the outer trappings. Beneath the skin itself beat the heart of a man bent on helping those in need.
Kindness
was his watchword, Ellie decided, placing the plate in the cupboard and lifting another into the keeping of her dish towel.

He truly cared, and upon that quality hung his decision to marry her. She was only one in a long list of those he tended. In this case, he'd extended his helping hand to an unheard of magnitude, that of marriage to a nobody. And didn't that put her in her place.

She sighed, examining the plate she'd polished to a fine
sheen, and then lifted it to the glass-fronted cabinet where his dishes were stored. A blurred reflection met her gaze, and she saw, within the waving glass image, a woebegone female who, but for the tender heart of a doctor, was bound for despair.

Ordinary. That's what she was. Ordinary, and in need. Without a doubt.

She bent closer to the reflecting glass. Surely something about her nondescript image must have appealed to the man. Not even Win would take a woman in marriage on the basis of compassion alone.

Ellie straightened, stiffening her spine. If he'd seen something worthy in her, then it would behoove her to seek out that same quality and shine it to perfection. She
would
be a credit to him, not allowing him to be shamed by her presence in his home.

 

“You need clothes. And you need them now. I don't know what I've been thinking of, not taking you to the mercantile. Tess is sure to have dresses that will fit.” Win pushed back from the table and rose. “We'll take a walk over there as soon as I run next door to check on Kate.”

The morning sun was high in the sky, and Win was in good spirits. The compound fracture had been set and the stitches put in place in record time, he'd told her. His arrival home, long after dark, had prompted her from her bed, and she'd poured him coffee from the pot left on the back of the stove, then sat with him at the kitchen table while he spoke of the house call.

And in all of that, she'd felt a foreshadowing of her life to come. Except for the moment when she'd rinsed his cup and turned it to drain, then left the kitchen. The stairs were long, her bedroom, for the first time, lonely. And below, she heard Win's footsteps as he walked through the hallway and into his bedroom.

Would she still be relegated to this room on the second floor, once the vows were spoken?

The memory of Kate and James, that stolen moment she'd glimpsed on her first night in this house came to mind. A deep heat possessed her, one she was not familiar with, and she sighed, yearning for just such an embrace to be hers.

Now, Win waited for her, a quizzical look on his face, as she hastened to prepare for the excursion to the mercantile. Just inside the kitchen door, he watched as she wiped the tabletop, then hung the dishrag over the basin.

“Kate is chipper this morning,” he told her. “I found her on her knees, scrubbing the back stoop.” An amused smile lifted his mouth as he spoke. “I don't think she'll make it much longer. That baby's about ready to make an appearance.”

“Will the children just stay home when she has the baby?” Ellie joined him and walked out the door he held for her.

“There'll be enough for them to do this time of year. It's time for the threshing anyway, and they generally close classes down for that. Kate couldn't have planned this better if she'd tried.”

“I've never heard of a teacher taking a baby to school with her,” Ellie told him.

“Probably no one but Kate would do it.”

Admiration shone through his statement, and Ellie felt a twinge of envy tug at her. What would it be like to have him speak with such confident pride on her behalf? And then she stifled the emotion that craved such a thing. Kate was more than deserving of Win's respect. Ellie had yet to earn it.

Tess waved a hand and beckoned them closer as Ellie stepped over the threshold of the mercantile, Win fast at her heels. “Come on in. You're my first customers of the day. I'll have to make a special effort to make a sale. My father used to say that if you made a paying customer out of your first visitor, your day would be a good one.”

Ellie was swallowed in the warmth of Tess's welcome, and
she approached the counter with a light step. “Win says I'm to have something new to wear,” she said, her tone low, as if she confided a secret to Tess's ears.

“Well, isn't that fine?” Tess turned toward the shelves closest to her stockroom and lifted a stack of dresses from a bin. She eyed Ellie judiciously and nodded, turning to sort through another selection, pulling three from within a second cubbyhole. “Let's see if any of these please you, Ellie.”

Dresses in a rainbow of colors were spread on the counter within moments, and Tess grinned at Win. “Just got in a new supply, Doc. Must have known you were coming by.” She lifted one after another of the assortment, some of them striped, others flowered, all of them far beyond what Ellie had ever dreamed of wearing.

“I wouldn't know which to choose,” she said with a sigh of pure pleasure. Her fingers caressed the fabrics, appreciating the smooth feel of percale, the ribbed texture of faille and dimity, the sheer elegance of batiste.

Tess leaned closer. “The garments in this stack are wrappers, Ellie. They'll be just the thing for you right now. You won't have to worry about them fitting properly, and they're perfectly respectable for you to wear around the house.”

“They're so…fancy,” Ellie said on an indrawn breath. “I can't imagine wearing something like this to cook in or when I scrub floors.”

“Go ahead and pick out three or four for now,” Win said from behind her. “Tess will probably know which will give you the best wear. And don't forget something nice to get married in.”

“Married?”
Tess spoke the word as if it were some magic incantation, breathing it past lips that quirked at the edges, trembling on the verge of a smile. Then with a burst of laughter, she leaned across the counter and hugged Ellie, able only to clutch at the girl's shoulders, what with over two feet of
counter space between them. She whispered the word against Ellie's ear. “Married? I'm so pleased.”

Ellie fumbled for words, and came up feeling tongue-tied. She should have known that Win would spill the beans, and yet to have him voice aloud his plans somehow made them more valid. Made the idea of being his wife almost a reality.

She blinked away moisture that clouded her vision, gritting her teeth, lest she make a spectacle of herself, right here in the middle of the mercantile. “Win just decided, actually,” she said quietly, then chanced a look in his direction.

His arm settled across her shoulders and he squeezed gently. “I think I took Ellie off guard, Tess. This has been in the making for a couple of days. I'm sure that's not a surprise to you. I finally realized that I didn't want to take any chances on some other young man coming along and snatching her away from me.”

“You work fast, Doc,” Tess murmured. “But I'm not surprised.”

“He feels sorry for me,” Ellie said wretchedly. “And he's making it sound as though…” Words failed her, and Win filled the gap with a ready retort.

“Ellie's the one who's taken a tremendous responsibility. I'm just lucky to have her. I never knew how wonderful it could be to have a woman in the house, tending to things and giving me someone to share my life with.”

He turned Ellie to face him. “I guess I didn't make it clear how I felt, sweetheart,” he said quietly, ignoring Tess, who had backed away at his words. “I'm not doing this for your benefit, although that comes into it somewhat, but for my own.

“I've made you cry again,” he said softly, his index finger sweeping tears from beneath each eye. He held her gaze, forcing her to recognize the sincerity of the words he spoke. “Don't think I'm doing you a favor, Ellie. You'll meet yourself coming and going in my household, helping in my office, and making my life easier.”

“Well, now that you've got that settled,” Tess said brightly, “let's get this child something to wear.” She picked up a blue-flowered print. With puffy sleeves and narrow cuffs, it was the height of fashion, and Tess allowed the skirt to fall in generous folds as she held it in front of her own ample form. “This will be nice for when you sit in Doc's office and keep track of his patients,” she said, folding it and placing it to one side.

Win backed away as Tess lifted another choice from the stack. “You two just go on and make a decision, Tess. I'll run across the road and talk to James for a few minutes. Take what you want, Ellie,” he said, smiling into her eyes. “The sky's the limit today. And don't forget something nice for the
wedding.
” He whispered the final word, with a cautious look over his shoulder.

Two ladies had entered the store, and both were moving quietly and carefully within earshot as Win nodded and tipped his hat in their direction. He paused a moment to speak to one of them, and she greeted him warmly.

Tess shot a look at the new customers and smiled. “I'll be right with you. Ellie here is choosing some new clothes.”

A striped percale was added to the first selection, and Ellie squirmed, knowing she was being scrutinized from top to bottom. In her drab wash dress, she felt like an interloper, sharing counter space with two upstanding members of the community. Both ladies looked familiar, one was certainly Caleb Kincaid's wife, Ruth, the other perhaps a lady from Sunday morning church service, she supposed.

When Tess suggested a green taffeta dress, cut with fullness in the skirt, and a high waistline, Ellie nodded, desperate to flee the confines of the mercantile.

“I'll just add a couple of petticoats, and two nice vests for you. Oh, and some pretty drawers,” Tess murmured, writing down figures with the nub of a pencil. She wrapped the chosen
items, snatching fine lawn undergarments from another shelf to add to the purchases.

Ellie nodded dumbly, her eyes fixed on the countertop, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. She managed a quiet thanks in Tess's direction, then shot a look of agonized shame at the two women who stood nearby.

“Good day, Ellie,” one of them said kindly, while the other snorted a muttered word beneath her breath. A nudge with a quick elbow silenced her, and the first patron stepped forward. “I'm Ruth Kincaid,” the woman said softly, her dark eyes kind as she held out a hand to Ellie.

Ellie grasped it as if it were a lifeline, and she about to drown. “Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I thought I recognized you,” she whispered. Ruth nodded, her dark hair straight and heavy, bound into a bun at the nape of her neck.

“I've got to go,” Ellie said, backing away.

“Don't forget your things, child,” Tess reminded her, handing the package across the counter.

“No, ma'am.” It was a heavy bundle, but Ellie took it with ease, lifting it to her breast as she headed for the door. She'd heard about Ruth Kincaid, known that the woman was from the Cheyenne tribe. George had made remarks about Caleb's good sense when he'd married the woman, seeing as how he had a child to raise from his first wife. She was apparently welcome here in Tess's establishment, and Caleb being one of the area's most prosperous ranchers certainly couldn't hurt any.

Best of all, Ruth seemed to be warm and friendly. Probably, she decided, due to her own problems with acceptance among the Anglo community. No matter the reason, she'd felt gracious approval from the woman, and that alone was enough to lift her spirits.